


Tears of the Prophets

by angled



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cardassia, Cardassians, Complete, Gen, Pah-Wraith, Vorta - Freeform, pagh-wraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 10:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10242113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angled/pseuds/angled
Summary: Dukat returns to Cardassia for the first time since his daughter's death, and he's brought the Pah Wraiths with him. Damar contemplates what he's done and has a lot of passive aggressive arguments with Weyoun. Based on the episode 'Tears of the Prophets', told from Damar's perspective.





	

‘Legate Damar,’ the glinn said, ‘excuse the interruption, but we have a problem.’ To his credit, he looked as if he would rather be elsewhere. Damar recognised the look all too well.

‘What kind of a problem?’ he asked, trying not to look too annoyed. He couldn’t even remember how many times he’d been interrupted this morning already.

‘Me,’ said a strikingly familiar voice, and Damar felt a strange, gut-wrenching sensation as his erstwhile mentor walked into the office. The last person he had expected to see – indeed he had never expected to see him again, alive, at any rate. The sight of him evoked memories that he did not want, thoughts that he had tried to suppress with bottles of kanar. 

‘Well, isn't anyone going to welcome me home?’ Dukat demanded in that deceptively genial tone which Damar knew so well. Weyoun spun around, and both of them faced Dukat squarely as he strode up to them. It was as if nothing had ever happened between them, and for a moment Damar had the strangest sensation of being back on Terok Nor again. 

‘Heroes get welcomed home, Dukat, not failures,’ Weyoun said acidly, apparently completely unaware of the emotional turmoil his counterpart was going through. ‘Or have you forgotten that under your leadership the Dominion nearly lost this war?’ 

‘As I recall, Weyoun, you were standing right by my side agreeing with every decision I made,’ Dukat replied, just as icily, but his eyes were upon Damar. 

‘If you're here because of what happened to your daughter..’ Damar began, trying not to let his discomfort show, but unable to meet Dukat’s eyes nonetheless, and dropping his gaze almost immediately. 

‘Damar,’ Dukat said, cutting over him, ‘you disappoint me. I would have thought you, of all people, would be glad to see your old mentor.’ He walked away from Damar and Weyoun, then turned back towards them, an odd smile on his face. Damar looked back at him, feeling almost dazed. He was not sure what to think, or what to expect. He had certainly been anticipating this moment ever since they’d left Terok Nor, even though he knew that the chances of Dukat coming back were slim, and he had not known what to expect. There were times when he’d wondered if Dukat was lurking in the shadows, or waiting for him in his quarters, ready to lunge out at him with a phaser, or even a knife, seeking revenge. A life for a life. It would have been a welcome respite from the guilt, the sleepless nights where his mind’s eye played out Ziyal’s murder, over and over again. Watching her collapse to the floor, clutching her smoking chest, her eyes filling with tears as she looked to the smoking phaser he held, then to him, then back at her father.. 

‘I don't hold you responsible for Ziyal's death,’ Dukat went on, almost blithely. ‘You may have fired the phaser, but it was Benjamin Sisko who forced your hand. And that's why I'm here. The time has come for me to take my revenge against the good captain.’ 

Damar said nothing, only stared back at him, the words Dukat had said dimly registering in his mind. Try as he might, he was unable to get rid of the image that was forever seared in his memory: of the last time he had seen his teacher and commander, and that of the raven-haired girl who had lain dying in his arms. 

A girl who had once been his friend. 

Weyoun was now speaking, laughing that trademark scathing chuckle of his. ‘We're in the middle of a life and death struggle for control of the entire Alpha Quadrant,’ he sneered, ‘and all you care about is quenching your petty thirst for revenge. You haven't changed a bit, have you?’ 

Damar blinked hard, trying to ward off the memories of Ziyal, and he looked back at Weyoun in a vain attempt to focus on what was happening right now. He was alive and still on his feet. Dukat was smiling as if nothing had ever come between them. Weyoun was scornfully pooh-poohing Dukat, pouring cold water on him and his plans. Well, at least that much hadn’t changed. 

‘On the contrary,’ Dukat said, striding forward, a fey light in his eyes, ‘I'm a new man. I no longer have a need for conquest or power. I'm far beyond all that. I exist in a state of complete clarity. A clarity I intend to share with the universe.’ He came to a standstill right before them. Behind him, the Glinn looked uneasily to Damar for instructions. Damar signalled him to do nothing, but the truth was, he didn’t have the faintest idea what Dukat was talking about, or what he was planning. At least he wasn’t here to execute Damar for killing Ziyal. A part of Damar was relieved by that, but another part of him was oddly disappointed. 

‘You're right, Dukat, you have changed,’ Weyoun said coldly, looking up and down at him with contempt in his eyes. ‘You've gone from being a self important egotist to a self deluded madman. I hardly call that an improvement.’ He arched his eyebrows and gestured at the Jem’Hadar in the wings. ‘I don't have time for this. Remove him.’ 

‘Wait!’ Damar shouted, and the Jem’Hadar stopped. He looked back at Dukat, and swallowed, and looked back at him with as much strength as he could muster. ‘Why did you come?’ 

He did not know why he was asking Dukat this. Maybe he wanted atonement. Forgiveness. Or maybe it was death he wanted. All that he knew was that this, all of this – was not what he had wanted, for either one of them, or for Ziyal. 

‘Isn't that obvious?’ Dukat said in that patronising tone of voice that Damar had come to know all too well. ‘To give you what you desire above all else. The Alpha Quadrant.’ 

 _No_ , Damar thought, hollowly. Not anymore. _Maybe you don’t know me as well as you once thought you did, after all_. Beside him, Weyoun was laughing that amazingly irritating laugh of his. Not for the last time, he wondered why things had come to this – him and the Cardassian Union being in alliance with this snide, ridiculous Gamma Quadrant alien whom he wanted nothing better than to snap in half. He wished he’d thrown the smug Vorta out of the nearest airlock when he’d had the chance. That would have been one death he wouldn’t have lost sleep over. 

‘All I need,’ Dukat said, ‘is a certain Bajoran artefact. One of the many, that the Cardassians – _appropriated_ – during the occupation.’ 

‘And how is this artefact going to help us?’ Weyoun demanded, his pale eyes gleaming. 

‘Let's just say,’ Dukat said with a smile, ‘it will make it possible for Dominion reinforcements to come through that wormhole and destroy Captain Sisko and the Federation. Once and for all.’ 

\---

 ‘A combined fleet at Deep Space Nine?’ Damar demanded of Weyoun. 

‘Composed of Federation, Klingon and Romulan ships,’ Weyoun said, a little too gleefully. Damar harrumphed and walked over to look at the fleet deployment map. ‘You think they'll head for the Chin'toka system?’ he shouted, over his back. 

‘I would,’ Weyoun said with a dismissive shrug. 

‘Well then,’ Damar said heftily, ‘we have nothing to worry about. The weapon platforms will be operational in time to greet them.’ He was feeling as jovial as he ever had been ever since he’d been assigned to work with Weyoun. He was in his element – designing and deploying weapons and battle plans, not engaging in political intrigue and subtleties, or being forced to act as an intermediary in personal matters. Or, if what Dukat said was true, being a grand priest to gods. 

‘That's a very comforting thought, if it's accurate,’ Weyoun said in his customary snide manner. Ordinarily this would have irritated Damar, but today he felt that he could tolerate even his least favourite Vorta. He nodded back. ‘I’ll make sure it is,’ he said, careful to add an undertone of bland insolence. He could feel Weyoun glaring at him. Today was certainly off to a good start. 

The door opened and Dukat walked in with a large crate, flanked by Jem’Hadar guards and looking even more pleased with himself than usual. Damar frowned, wondering what he was up to now. Surely he hadn’t really found these deities, Pah-Wraiths or whatever he’d called them? 

‘Gentlemen,’ Dukat boomed. ‘I hope I'm not interrupting.’ 

Weyoun sighed loudly, not bothering to hide his impatience. ‘What is it now, Dukat?’ 

Dukat brandished his crate. ‘I've found it,’ he said, unable to contain his jubilance. ‘Behold! The key to victory.’ 

Damar and Weyoun exchanged wary glances. Dukat caught their looks. ‘Oh, I see you remain sceptical,’ he said, busying himself with emptying the contents of his knapsack. ‘Well, you won't be for long. Over the past few months, I've immersed myself in the study of the Bajoran Ancient Texts.’ 

Damar and Weyoun walked over to take a closer look, grudgingly intrigued. Weyoun dismissed the Jem’Hadar soldiers, who silently filed out, and Damar frowned down at a candle that Dukat had taken out of the crate, which he was now lighting. He wondered if Dukat really believed what he was saying. Perhaps Dukat was mad. Either that, or he was the one who was mad. Or maybe both of them were mad. Whatever was happening, he found it difficult to believe that Dukat, this man, his erstwhile mentor, whom he had once considered the greatest man in Cardassia, was now speaking of ancient scripts and Bajoran gods, if they even existed, and how he was proposing to fight them. Maybe he was mad after all. 

‘I've come to realize that the wormhole is much more than the gateway to the Gamma Quadrant,’ Dukat announced. ‘It's the Temple of the Prophets. It's from there that they smile benevolently down on Bajor. It's from there that they protect that world and its people.’ He took out a rather malevolent-looking wooden figurine from the crate. ‘The sad truth is,’ he continued, ‘we wasted our time fighting the Bajorans when we should've been fighting their gods.’ He held the figurine aloft, tilting his head to admire it. 

Deciding to humour him, Damar said, ‘How do you fight a god?’ 

‘I'll show you,’ Dukat said, setting down the figurine. Damar tried not to look at it. For some reason he found it deeply unsettling. 

‘You see,’ Dukat pronounced, ‘we have an ally we never knew we had. You may want to step back.’ 

Damar could not help darting back a rather alarmed look at Weyoun, who stared back quizzically. He obviously felt that there was no credence to what Dukat was saying. 

‘Dorrah tolka bretri pah'rahn, meedor,’ Dukat intoned. Weyoun rolled his eyes, whilst Damar looked away, unable to bear the sight of his former mentor making such a spectacle of himself. He found himself wishing that the Federation had kept Dukat locked up after all. Anything would have been better than this ignobility of the former Chief Military Advisor, formerly high ranking Gul in Central Command, to indulge himself in silly Bajoran superstitions in front of him and Weyoun. He did not even want to think of how this was going to appear to the Dominion. Hopefully Dukat had not behaved like this in front of any real Bajorans. He could only imagine what a laughing stock they would become.

‘Dorrah tolka ullkess pah'rahn,’ Dukat finished, and broke open the figurine. A red energy beam surged out, and aimed straight for him, knocking him to the floor.

‘Dukat!’ shouted Damar, rushing to his former commander, and pulling him up. Weyoun followed – obviously he had not anticipated this either, and watched as the former Legate sat up, and opened his eyes, which were – inexplicably – glowing red. Damar almost dropped him back onto the floor in surprise and horror. 

‘Your concern is touching,’ Dukat said. His voice was strange and metallic and seemed to come from deep within from his body. ‘But unnecessary.’ 

\---

‘The enemy fleet is approaching the Chin'toka system,’ Damar said, watching the deployment of the fleet on the map.

‘What's the status of our weapon platforms?’ Weyoun asked. 

‘Still offline,’ growled Damar. He hadn’t anticipated the delay in implementation.

‘It pains me to say this,’ Weyoun said, his eyes still on the screen, ‘but you Cardassians are proving to be quite a disappointment.’

Damar turned and glared at him. ‘I'll remind you that you said that.’

\---

Damar watched in satisfaction as the enemy forces were decimated one by one. ‘I believe you owe me an apology,’ he said.

‘I believe you're right,’ Weyoun said, his lip curling slightly. Damar grunted and walked over to look at some of the other deployment maps.

‘Now, if Dukat can get our reinforcements through the wormhole –’ he began.

‘I'm not sure how much faith I have in this, what did he call it?’ Weyoun cut over him.

‘Pah wraith,’ said Damar, rather annoyed at being interrupted again like that.

‘Pah wraiths and Prophets,’ Weyoun continued. ‘All this talk of gods strikes me as nothing more than superstitious nonsense.’

‘You believe that the Founders are gods, don't you?’ Damar retorted.

‘That's different,’ Weyoun immediately countered, turning to look at him. Damar could not resist gloating a little – evidently he had struck a nerve.

‘In what way?’ he snorted, trying and failing to hold back a derisive laugh.

‘The Founders _are_ gods,’ Weyoun said icily. Damar stopped laughing and scowled. He was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t fallen into some sort of mad parallel world where everyone was fanatically religious and thought that gods walked amongst them. After seeing what had happened with Dukat, he was ready to give the Pah-Wraiths the benefit of the doubt, but he privately found the Dominion and the whole Great Link business to be absurd. As far as he was concerned the Founders were a bunch of ugly mugs with bad attitudes.

\---

‘This is a disaster!’ Weyoun raged at Dukat, who was sitting rather smugly on the other side of the viewscreen. ‘Federation soldiers have landed on Cardassian soil and now you're telling me the wormhole is gone and with it any chance of getting reinforcements from the Gamma Quadrant?’

Damar groaned and rolled his eyes at the ceiling, and blew upwards at his non-existent fringe. For once he was in agreement with Weyoun, much as he hated to be put in that position. Things had started to go downhill ever since Dukat had first arrived with those Pah Wraiths. It had merely been embarrassing at first, but now with the wormhole sealed off, how could they ever get any reinforcements from the Dominion? All of this would have been an exercise in futility – the treaty signed in vain. All those Cardassian lives given for nothing.

‘I'm well aware things didn't turn out quite the way I planned,’ viewscreen Dukat said evenly, ‘but I assure you, we still achieved a great victory.’

Weyoun turned to glare at Damar, almost as if holding him responsible for the actions of his predecessor, and then whirled back to Dukat. ‘Forgive me,’ he said, between clenched teeth, ‘if I don't share your euphoria,’

Damar sighed and bit his lip to stop himself from the round of abuse that he himself wanted to hurl at his former superior. He didn’t know how he was going to justify this latest Dukat incident to Weyoun, and in all truth he didn’t want to, either.

‘Well you should,’ Dukat replied, seemingly baffled by their hostility. ‘The Bajoran people have been cut off from their gods, perhaps forever.’

‘How does that help us?’ Damar snarled.

‘Because,’ Dukat said, in that familiar patronising tone he always used whenever he was about to explain some grandiose and ultimately superfluous new scheme, ‘Sisko has been cut off from the Prophets as well. And without the Prophets, he's just another Starfleet captain.’

‘And that's supposed to make me feel better?’ Weyoun asked, sarcastically.

‘Oh, believe me,’ Dukat said, leaning closer to the viewscreen, ‘it _will_.’


End file.
